


Going the Distance

by SingManyFaces



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Humor, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, They Were Zoommates, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24246409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SingManyFaces/pseuds/SingManyFaces
Summary: Five times Ben couldn’t touch Anakin, and one time that he could.  A Quarantine meet-cute.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 20
Kudos: 209





	Going the Distance

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my patient partners in crime for helping me figure out some of the logistics for this. Rated to be on the safe side.

Ben was _not_ doing well.

Taking a bit of alone time for himself had never been a rare pastime; quiet nights in and smaller gatherings had always been more enjoyable to him than the office’s weekly Happy Hours, no matter how good the drinks were. But after one week of working from home full-time for social distancing’s sake, not leaving his apartment except for essential trips, he’d found time starting to drag. Ben hadn’t quite realized before how much he enjoyed just being _around_ people, being able to poke his head into someone else’s office if he needed something or to start a conversation on the fly if things were slow. And now things always seemed slow.

_Now_ , after a month cooped up alone, he was climbing the walls. Never had he so looked forward to his weekly trips to the grocery store, his one break from the monotony of his days. Well.

The grocery store, and the cat.

He’d noticed it a few days into his isolation, in the window to the apartment across the alley from him. It was a fluffy thing, long-haired and mostly white, with some gray markings. About midway through the morning, usually, it would climb up under the thick curtains that shielded the window to sun itself. Ben had even started to play with it, such as he was able—using his watch to reflect a spot of light that it would attempt to catch. Sometimes if the chase got too rambunctious a pair of hands would dip behind the curtain, too, and whisk the cat away. He always felt a little bad about that, hoping he hadn’t gotten it in trouble.

That day it was just before lunch that the cat appeared, blinking at the late-morning brightness as it stared into the alley. At his own window Ben waved to it, and found himself oddly gratified when it rested on its back legs to press its forepaws to the glass. Truly, he must be going stir-crazy.

That was what he told himself as he set aside his sandwich to turn back to his laptop, typing up a short message in huge letters before printing it out; he thought it again as he stared down at the pages. Then he found his tape and hung them up on his window, double checking as he went to make sure they were in the right order. _‘What is the white + gray cat’s name? It’s very friendly.’_ He couldn’t help feeling a little silly, but he _had_ been wondering. And what harm was there in asking, he reasoned; the worst that could happen was that he wouldn’t get a response. Shaking his head at himself, he went back to his sandwich and the manuscript he was editing.

It was a few hours later, as he finished filling out his timecard for the day, that something caught his eye.

Across the alley, just above where the cat usually laid, something was hung in the window; Ben took down his own makeshift sign so that he could have an unobstructed view. Sure enough, he’d gotten an answer. _‘His name is Artoo. @Artooey on insta.’_

Ben chuckled and opened the app on his phone, finding the account easily. The most recent post was a shot of the cat—Artoo—laying under the brightly colored streaks of a rainbow’s light with the caption ‘Artoo says gay rights.’ Well, that was encouraging. Smiling, he liked the post and scrolled a little farther down to find several videos of him playing with a fishing pole-like toy, turning in circles and chirping excitedly as he chased the lure, sometimes jumping unexpectedly high to get it. He followed the account, happy to see more of his little friend’s exploits. Over the course of the week it brought a little more light into his days, just as Artoo’s appearances in the window did.

Then came Saturday.

On Saturdays it felt like there was even less reason to get out of bed than usual, and Ben had started indulging in late mornings. Lightly cocooned in bed with a fluffy blanket, he checked his email and reluctantly caught up on current events before opening Instagram. And then he stared blankly at the most recent Artooey post, timestamped as 6:30 that morning.

The man in the picture was in bed much like Ben, dark blond hair in disarray on his pillow. His expression was still soft with sleep, if resigned; Artoo was biting his ear. Belatedly Ben read the caption, ‘ _Someone doesn’t care that it’s the weekend, he wants breakfast NOW! #NoSocialDistance #CatsOfQuarantine_ _’_

He hadn’t given Artoo’s owner much thought up until that point, he realized later as he started brewing his morning coffee. Until then Ben had only thought of him as a hushed voice on a few videos, or a pair of hands that took the cat out of the window; you couldn’t tell much about a person from that. It just hadn’t occurred to him to try and imagine more of what the other man might look like. Or that he might find him attractive. 

Now it wouldn’t _stop_ occurring to him.

And neither would a completely mad idea that made him want to laugh at himself. He set it aside as silly and tried to put it from his mind, but it kept sneaking back in. The idea would pop up when he was trying to read an article, or it would distract him during calls with friends; it was a few days later, when he was back on the clock editing and finding it just as persistent, that he finally relented. He opened a new document and once again typed up a quick message in huge font before printing it out, then hung it in his window before he could change his mind. ‘ _What is the blond man’s name? He’s very handsome_.’ With that taken care of, his mind was clear enough to get through the pages he needed to that day—minus the occasional break to check if he’d gotten a response.

After he’d finished washing his dinner dishes he checked the window again. This time Artoo was there, pawing discontentedly at the corner of the message his owner had hung; well, it was intruding on his usual spot. It was still light enough out for Ben to read it, ‘ _It’s Anakin. What about the sexy redhead?_ ’

It was a surprise; for all that he hadn’t noticed the other man—Anakin—apparently Ben _had_ been. And the ‘sexy’ part was certainly encouraging. He took down his last message and flipped one of the pages over—no need to waste printer ink on a three letter word. Finding a suitable marker, be wrote ‘ _Ben_ ’ in large clear letters before hanging the paper in the window again. Then he pulled his own curtains closed, determined not to lurk at his own window for the rest of the night.

The next morning he dressed and made his coffee, performed all of his other new rituals for getting the day started before opening his curtains again. When he did he found a message waiting for him, short and simple.

‘ _DM me, Ben_.’

~*~

Ben’s second month of quarantine had gotten off to a much better start than his first—he and Anakin had begun talking.

It had started with a few direct messages through Instagram where, once they had both felt comfortable, they exchanged numbers. The first text Anakin sent had been a simple one, ‘ _Come to the window._ ’

When he had gotten there, Ben had seen Anakin’s curtains fully parted for the first time as the other man leaned on the sill of his open window; with a bright smile he’d gestured for Ben to do the same. “You’re so close, it seemed a shame not to talk like this at least once, you know?” Anakin hadn’t needed to raise his voice all that much to send it across their alley.

The sentiment had earned him a smile in return. Still, Ben couldn’t help asking, “But aren’t you afraid Artoo might jump out or something?”

Anakin’s eyes had gone wide, mouth dropping open in surprise. He’d reached out an arm to point emphatically, “How do you not mention that accent?”

Caught off-guard and unable to help himself, Ben had laughed. “It’s just my voice, I don’t think about it!”

He’d watched Anakin slowly shake his head, scrub a hand down his face. “Go back to the phone,” he’d called, grinning fiercely, “I probably shouldn’t shout the lewd things I want to say.”

Anakin had made good on that promise once they’d switched back to texting.

He’d also taken the time to assure Ben that he’d shut Artoo in the bedroom before he’d opened the window; Ben had appreciated that too. From there they’d begun to check in with each other every day. It was that way that Ben learned that Artoo had originally belonged to a friend of Anakin’s but, when she’d come down allergic to him, Anakin had taken him in. The Instagram had started out as an easy way for her to see how the cat was doing in his new home, but the other man had come to enjoy it as well. It was also through the texting that he came to realize Anakin wasn’t having nearly the difficulty with social distancing protocols as he was. Today Ben was feeling particularly stir-crazy, and he mentioned it as he started heating up his dinner.

His phone chimed as he pulled his chicken stew out of the microwave. ‘ _If it’s really getting to you, you should take a quick walk around the block,’_ read Anakin’s message _, ‘I take one every day.’_

Three dots appeared to indicate he was typing again, then, ‘ _You should come with me tomorrow.’_

Chuckling, Ben swallowed down a few spoonfuls before responding. ‘ _Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of distancing?’_

_‘Only if you can’t stay six feet away from me. ;D’_

“What am I going to do with you?” He mused aloud with a fond shake of his head. A few things he wanted to do came immediately to mind, but all of them required a lot less distance than six feet between them. 

A walk _did_ sound nice—a good way to break up his day a bit, and more enjoyable than the indoor exercises he’d been doing, especially with company. But by that same token, it also felt a bit like waving a donut in the face of someone trying to diet. Would it actually help, or just end up making him feel the isolation more? Another moment spent considering it before, with a sigh, he texted, ‘ _What time?_ ’

Only one way to find out, he supposed.

~*~

Just before three o’clock the next afternoon—Anakin’s usual time, apparently—Ben walked around the side of his building and down the alley to stand below his window; it was only a few minutes later that Anakin appeared around the corner of his own. He was taller than Ben had expected, and all legs, something he took the moment to appreciate. Ben greeted the other man with a warm laugh, “Now I feel under-dressed.”

Beneath the mask he wore, Anakin snickered. “I had a bunch left over after I painted my walls a while ago. Besides,” he nodded toward Ben, “you have a scarf.”

“True enough.” He pulled the garment up over the lower half of his face and swept his hand toward the end of the alley. “Shall we get to it?”

Another nod, and Anakin shrugged toward Ben’s side of the alley. “Hang a right at the end.”

Ben thought nothing of the direction until he’d made the turn and found himself on the sidewalk, and Anakin keeping pace with him in the street. “Get out of the road!”

The other man gave a full laugh, loud even behind the mask. “Relax!” He stepped a little further into the street, holding out his arms as he did a slow turn in place, “Nobody’s driving.” Stepping in closer again, he crossed his arms atop the roof of a parked car. “Besides, it might be good to have an obstacle or two filling the six feet between us,” he declared, giving the car a little pat. “I can be a little handsy, if I forget myself, and based on the texts we’ve been sending?” giving a rakish wink, “It seems you might be, too.”

Behind his scarf, Ben’s mouth dropped open. “I...” heaving a sigh, he wilted just a little, “wish that I could resent that, but it’s rather true.” His brows knit as he gave a wry smile despite himself. “Though speaking of the texts,” he began, taking up the walk again.

Anakin’s laughter was quieter as he kept pace with Ben, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Can’t wait to see where this is going to go.”

Arching a brow, “Well, you’re walking in the gutter, I suppose it would follow your mind’s there too.” They shared a chuckle that time, and Ben let out a deep sigh. “No, I just mean—from all our conversations—it seems that these distancing protocols don’t seem to be wearing on you nearly so much.”

“Oh.” His leather jacket creaked softly as he shrugged. “I was already working from home full-time so, you know,” huffing a laugh, “my day-to-day hasn’t actually changed all that much.”

“Really?” That was a surprise—even more surprising still, Ben realized, that it hadn’t come up earlier; he’d mentioned the publisher he worked for not long into their chatting. “What do you do, then?”

“I’m a camboy.”

Ben lost his footing for a step but recovered quickly, head snapping around to look at Anakin. “Well, that...” taken off-guard, he floundered just a moment for what to say, “must be steady work, what with everyone stuck at home right now.”

“Wait, you believed me?” Anakin’s eyes widened, then crinkled so that Ben could tell he was smiling behind his mask, “Thanks?” Ben found it easier than he would have expected to beat down the flash of embarrassment that heated his face; he liked the sound of Anakin’s laugh. The man in question paused for a moment to adjust his mask. “No, I work for a company building websites. Just,” he made a vague gesture into the air, “coding into the void all day.”

“Ah.” Editing ‘into the void’ certainly described how Ben felt while on the clock lately. “So things really _haven’t_ changed all that much for you, then.”

Anakin’s eyes crinkled again. “No, not really. My weekly game night with friends is online now,” he added, amused, “Makes for less table-flipping, but it still helps to see everyone’s face.” He ducked his head then, boyishly coy. “And, of course, there’s the sexy redhead that asked about my cat one day. That’s pretty new, too.”

Giving a pleased hum, “Careful—a man could get used to hearing compliments like that.”

“Then a man should,” Anakin informed him cheerfully, “because I don’t tend to hold back.”

The warmth that settled in Ben’s chest lasted for the rest their walk, short though it was; all too soon the fronts of their respective buildings came back into view. “So,” Anakin asked, turning back at the door of his, “think you’ll be joining me again?”

“I do,” Ben nodded, “I think I underestimated how much I missed just being out in the fresh air for a bit.” And, as it turned out, the temptation of having the other man so close _hadn’t_ taken away from the experience. 

“Glad to hear it!” Closing his hand briefly over his mask, Anakin gave a theatrical pantomime of blowing a kiss; Ben earned more of his infectious laughter when he ‘caught’ it.

“Wait,” he called as Anakin opened the door, giving in to an idea that had started brewing during the latter half of their walk, “Will you have dinner with me? Sometime this week.”

Anakin let the door slip from his grip, appearing interested even as his brows knit in confusion. “What happened to ‘defeating the purpose of distancing?’” he ribbed gently.

“Well...” he lowered his scarf so the other man could see his grin this time, “you may have given me an idea to get around that.”

~*~

After some investigation, they’d discovered that they had four take-out menus in common between their collections; it seemed a good idea to stick to a place they knew they both already liked for what was technically a first date. Now that the day had arrived, they had agreed to put in an order at the same appointed time at a little Chinese food place a few blocks away. But Ben had another call to make first. “Just couldn’t wait ‘til six, huh?” Anakin chuckled when he picked up.

Ben grinned, but only replied, “I left something for you under your window.”

“Oh, yeah?” Anakin’s dark curtains shifted enough for him to look out, clearly sighting the gift bag Ben had left there. “What is it?”

“Go find out.”

Looking across the alley, Anakin smiled brightly as he met Ben’s gaze, “You’re feeling playful today.” He made a show of hanging up his phone before blowing Ben a kiss and disappearing from his window again.

Using the time it took the other man to get down to the ground floor, Ben opened his window and leaned on the sill to wait; it wasn’t long before Anakin appeared around the corner. The bag was a little heavier than he’d expected and he leaned his back against the brick wall to rummage through it, another wide smile breaking out on his face. A thin disposable tablecloth, a pack of paper plates and utensils... “I’m surprised you didn’t pack it into a picnic basket,” he called up to Ben.

“I would have if they’d had one,” Ben responded. Reaching briefly below his window, he pulled up his own packed plastic bag. “I thought it might help the illusion if we were dining off the same flatware.”

Anakin’s laughter carried even more easily than his words. “Good thinking!” Then, reaching the bottom of the bag, he pulled out a scented jar candle and held it up questioningly.

“Well,” Ben grinned down at him, “who says romance is dead?”

“Certainly not me.” Carefully nestling the candle back into the bag, Anakin sent up another smile as he waved. “See you again soon!”

As predicted, their meals arrived within ten minutes of each other, about a half hour after they’d placed their orders. Ben had his table set and his food plated before he propped up his tablet and opened the Zoom link Anakin had sent him earlier. The window came up immediately, just Anakin’s head popping in from the side of the screen. “Just a second!”

There were a few soft bangs from somewhere off-screen and then Anakin’s plate came into view, followed shortly after by the man himself. “Sorry!” He held up his hands as he seated himself, the candle held in one and a lighter in the other. Wagging the lighter before igniting it, “This wasn’t where I’d thought it was.”

“That’s alright,” Ben chuckled easily. “This is all very,” he waved his fork in small circles in the air, “...experimental.”

A smirk turned Anakin’s lips, “That’s what makes it fun.” Once he’d gotten his candle lit, he placed it to the right side of the table’s center so that it wouldn’t obscure his view of his own tablet, his expression softening as he took in the warm, spiced scent. “Good choice,” he murmured. Then, gathering thin noodles with his fork, “So, what did you get?”

“Spicy crispy shrimp with brown rice,” Ben informed, waving his fork over the areas of his plate before briefly lifting a smaller one, “and some shumai. And you?” He popped one of the small dumplings into his mouth.

“Singapore rice noodles! This place is my favorite for it, they always go heavy on the spice.” He enthusiastically spun up a forkful of them and slurped it down, momentarily covering his mouth with his hand. “Reminds me of stuff my mom used to make.”

Ben arched a brow, digging into his rice. “Your mother made Singapore rice noodles?”

He watched Anakin snort a laugh, then cough until he took a long gulp of water to sooth his throat. “No—” one last cough, and he gave a roughened chuckle, “No, but she _did_ make a lot of curried things.” Fully recovered now, he gave a broad smile as he spun another forkful of noodles. “A lot of spicy food growing up.”

Taking in the other man’s expression, his enthusiasm, Ben felt himself beginning to smile. “It sounds nice.” Experimental or not, he thought, this wasn’t so bad for a first date. He prodded one of the large, crispy prawns on his plate with his fork as he leaned his chin on his other hand. “So, Anakin Skywalker,” he mused, “what else should I know about you?”

Anakin blinked at him as a noodle disappeared between his lips, then hummed in thought, eyes rolling upward exaggeratedly. “Well, if we were actually sitting across a table from each other right now?” he offered, mouth slanting in a sly grin, “I’d definitely be stealing one of your shumai. At least one.”

Giving a bark of laughter, Ben raised one of his shrimp with his fork as though he were making a toast, inclining it toward the camera. “Something to look forward to.”

Grin widening again, Anakin speared one of the shrimp amidst his noodles and returned the gesture.

~*~

It didn’t matter that this was the fifth time Ben was watching the newest video posted to Artooey, he couldn’t stop laughing at it. The camera swept over the floor of Anakin’s kitchen area, where several plastic cups laid on the floor among spreading puddles of water. _“Artoo! What do you think you’re doing?”_ Came Anakin’s voice.

The cat, perched imperiously atop the counter next to another cup, looked straight into the camera—and didn’t break eye contact as he raised his paw and pushed the cup over the edge. The splash of the water against the floor came at the same time as Anakin’s dismayed shout, _“No!”_

Once again Ben found himself laughing, only stopping when there was a knock at his door.

The delivery person was gone by the time he opened the door to find a package...that he hadn’t ordered. The mystery didn’t last long, though, and he snorted another laugh as he read the label—“Sexy Redhead” written in place of his name. Ben set the box on his desk and sent off a text before claiming his pair of scissors, _‘Just got the package you sent.’_

His phone chimed as he finished slicing through the packing tape. _‘Good! Make sure to follow the directions and bring it on our date. <3’_

Ben smiled as he thought about their planned date for that night—their Zoom dinners had become a twice weekly affair and, after they’d gotten to ordering from a few of the menus that they _didn’t_ have in common, they’d decided to try something else new. Tonight they would be streaming a movie together; he’d already connected his laptop to his television in preparation. An item to ‘bring along’—an item with directions, no less—certainly piqued his curiosity. 

It was actually three items, he discovered once he opened the sparkly gift bag within the box. A package of microwave popcorn, a plush blanket in deep blue, and...a bottle of cologne. Ben fished out the gift message that had been included. _‘Spray the blanket before we get started. ;D And don’t forget the popcorn!’_

With another smile Ben opened the cologne, happy to have something to cover the lingering smell of the packaging on the blanket but still not wanting it to be too strong during the movie. He gave a small test-spray and a pleasant, almost incense-like smell suffused the area, a faint note of citrus settling in after. Yes, definitely a scent he wouldn’t mind having wrapped around him for a few hours. He spread the blanket out on the couch before spritzing down its length. 

When the proper time arrived, bag of popcorn in hand, Ben opened the Zoom link on his laptop; Anakin was already sharing his screen and had the backdrop set to look like the inside of a movie theater. He made sure to get under the blanket before retrieving his tablet to start up FaceTime. 

Anakin appeared curled into the corner of his couch so Ben carefully propped his tablet on the arm of his. The other man also had a bag of popcorn at his side, and had an identical blue blanket covering his lower half. “Ahh, I see,” Ben grinned, pulling his own blanket a little higher.

“Helps the illusion, right?” Anakin winked, awkwardly moving his wireless mouse along his leg to start queuing up the movie they’d picked. “I was a _little_ worried things might arrive late, that would’ve been way less slick.”

The laughter came easily. “We’d have made it work, I’m sure.” Getting into a more comfortable position to keep both screens in view, he asked, “Did you spray down your blanket, too?”

“No need for me,” flashing a brief smile as their television screens switched from the movie theater to the studio’s logo, “It’s just what I wear.”

Ben dipped his chin into the blanket, warmth curling in his belly as he inhaled deeply, “Clever.” He tried to imagine how the scent might change if it were on a warm body rather than a blanket alone. “I’m sorry I can’t return the favor.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Anakin ducked his head as a small smile turned his lips, “I’ve got your candle burning to make up for it.” He reached out of frame to briefly show the item to Ben before setting it safely back on his coffee table. Clearing his throat, “Ready to settle in?”

Giving his bag of popcorn a little shake, “Good to go over here.”

“Alright, then.” On his end of things Anakin pressed play and the movie began. It was a feature still newly released to video that neither of them had seen yet; it was that factor—and a mutual appreciation for Chris Evans—that had them decide on it.

It wasn’t all that difficult, Ben quickly found, to divide his attention between the two screens. What he was beginning to find slightly puzzling, though, was Anakin’s positioning. The other man had been slowly shifting as the movie continued and now, if Ben looked to his tablet, the view was almost as if Anakin had snuggled into his side. “How are you getting that angle on the camera?” he finally asked.

For a moment there was no response, and Ben wondered if he might not have heard. “Don’t laugh,” Anakin told him, just as he was about to ask again. Straightening up so that he appeared more fully on-camera, Anakin looked a little sheepish. “I have you strapped to my body pillow.”

Ben couldn’t completely stop a grin from quirking up. “Not one of those tacky things with a sexy picture on it, I hope?”

“Other than you, you mean?” Anakin rolled well with the tease, “No, nothing like that.” Laughing softly at himself he scratched at the back of his neck, briefly caught his lower lip in his teeth. “I just sleep better with something in my arms.”

Normally Ben might’ve continued his ribbing a little longer but, in that moment, he found himself disarmed by the simple admission instead. A dull ache settled in his chest as he took in the other man—the stretched collar of Anakin’s shirt pulled low over his collarbone, his hair in soft disarray from the pillow. He closed his eyes and, as notes of the cologne rose again from the blanket, he imagined burying his nose in that hair as Anakin cuddled close. Letting out a sigh, he made an admission of his own, “I’ve never been more disappointed that I can’t touch you right now.”

Even in the low light he could see Anakin flush, wondered what it would feel like against his skin. Anakin ducked his head again and offered him a coy smile. “Something else to look forward to.”

It was getting to be a lengthy list.

~*~

Ben didn’t want to think about just how long it took the shelter in place orders to be lifted in the city, preferred to focus instead on the here and now where he was finally standing outside the door to apartment 6B, in the building across from his own. No mask, no gloves, and—most importantly—no six feet of space between Anakin and him. At least, not once he was actually inside. Avoiding the ‘Thanks for delivering!’ sign that still hung there, Ben knocked on the door.

“It’s open!” Anakin called from within, “I’ll be there in a minute!”

It was...pleasantly strange the way the space was already half-familiar after so many hours spent on video calls and Instagram. He could pick out the spot on the carpet where most of Artoo’s feed had been shot, felt himself smile as he caught sight of the jars of the spent candles from their dinner dates. The poster hung behind the couch, he realized, was of a futuristic cityscape at night; he had only ever seen the lower right corner of it before.

His attention was drawn from the surroundings by a string of chirps and, looking down, he found Artoo happily winding between his ankles. Ben picked him up and stroked the top of his head as he cradled him. “Hello there, Artoo,” he murmured, eyes crinkling as Artoo sniffed at his chin, “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Not cool, little buddy,” Anakin admonished, leaning his shoulder against the mouth of the little hall that lead deeper into the apartment, “You beat me to it.”

“Well, he did technically introduce us,” Ben offered, gently setting the cat back on the floor, “Perhaps he thought he had dibs.”

Huffing a laugh, Anakin watched Ben walk closer, let his eyes linger. “No more six foot rule,” he joked softly, “I’m not sure I know what to do with myself.”

“I do.” He stepped into the other man’s space, briefly closed his eyes as he was enveloped in the warm musk of his cologne. “Ohh, I do.”

Even such little distance between them now was too much so Ben closed it, finally, to steal a curry-flavored kiss. His hands wanted to be everywhere, learning the lines of Anakin’s body that his eyes had followed on their walks; he pressed the other man back against the wall as he mapped lean muscle with his touch, only just stopping himself from snaking a hand up the back of his shirt. Settling instead for burying his hands in the shaggy curls of Anakin’s hair, Ben broke the kiss with a groan as Anakin worked a leg between his and started rocking against him. 

“Show me your room?” Ben dragged his mouth up Anakin’s neck, pressed it to his ear and grinned as he murmured, “I have some lewd things I want to make you shout.”

A soft whine slipped from Anakin’s lips, “Promises, promises...” Taking Ben by the wrist, he started down the hall. “You’d better keep them.”

Ben took great pleasure in doing just that. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! You can find me on tumblr @singmanyfaces if you want to drop by. :D


End file.
